Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(18)

“Lydia and Brad, this is Casey Marshall.”

The twelve-year-old refused to look at us. Instead she stared down at the f loor.

“Hello, Casey,” Brad said. “Welcome to our home.”

“Welcome,” I echoed. “I’ll bet you’re exhausted. I’ve got the bed made up for you.”

Casey continued to stare at the f loor.

“Casey,” Evelyn murmured, her arm loosely around the girl’s thin shoulders.

Reluctantly Casey looked up. Def iance f lashed in her cool dark eyes. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. Gratitude? Appreciation? Relief ? If so, all three were sadly lacking in Casey’s expression and demeanor.

“Casey will walk to class in the morning,” Evelyn said. “She’s at Carver Middle School.”

“I’ll drive her,” I volunteered. “It’s on my way.”

Casey’s eyes darted toward Chase and softened perceptibly until she saw me watching her. Quickly she diverted her attention, glancing around the foyer and into the living room.

“I don’t need a ride, I’ll walk,” Casey insisted.

“Whatever you want,” I said. This wasn’t going well. It was almost as if Brad and I were intruding on the girl’s life, although we were making every effort to accommodate her.

“I’ll leave you now,” Evelyn said. She handed Brad her business card. “This has my off ice number and my cell. If you have any questions or problems, don’t hesitate to phone anytime.”

Brad accepted the card and studied it, although we already had Evelyn’s contact information.

As Evelyn said her goodbyes, I stepped forward. She paused, a question in her eyes. I felt out of my depth here—what did I know about dealing with a troubled young girl? I was afraid this wasn’t going to work, but Evelyn offered me a reassuring smile, then turned to leave.

Well, we’d agreed to do this, I reminded myself, and it was only for two days. We’d muddle through and so would Casey.

“I’ll show you to your room,” I said as soon as Evelyn left. I tried not to reveal how nervous I was.

Casey raised one shoulder, implying that she really didn’t care. She was slender for her age, with straight, badly cut hair that fell below her ears. Her jeans were tattered but not fashionably and the wording on her T-shirt was long since washed out. It had once been bright pink, I thought, but was now an off-white with reddish splotches here and there.

I led the way down the hall. “This will be your room,” I said. I turned the light on. The bed was made and everything had been put in the closet or stacked on the dresser. I’d brought in some fresh towels and extra hangers, which I’d laid on the quilt. Casey looked around, then stepped into the room.

“Our son, Cody, is asleep next door. Chase is his dog. Cody named him that because he was always having to chase after him.” She didn’t smile. “Do you like dogs?”

Casey gave another one-sided shrug. “They’re all right.”

“Can we get you anything?” Brad asked, coming to stand behind me. He placed his hands on my shoulders.

Casey considered his question and shook her head.

“The bathroom’s at the end of the hall.”

She nodded.

“We’ll see you in the morning,” I said. I didn’t want to leave the girl, but I didn’t know what else to say or do. Casey obviously had no interest in conversation. She acted as though she couldn’t be rid of us fast enough.

“Night,” Brad said.

“Yes, good night,” I added with what I hoped was an encouraging smile. Casey nodded and closed the bedroom door. Brad and I were left standing out in the hallway.

“I hope we did the right thing,” Brad whispered.

“Me, too.”

I woke during the night and knew instantly that something was different. It took me a couple of minutes to realize what it was. Then I remembered—a girl was sleeping down the hall. A girl we didn’t know. Casey clearly didn’t want to be in our home and revealed no appreciation for our hospitality. About seven, just before the alarm rang, Cody’s voice boomed,

“Mom, there’s a girl in the house!”

Tossing aside the covers, I jumped out of bed. I grabbed my housecoat and hurried into the kitchen, where Casey sat at the table, eating a bowl of cereal. Cody stood in his pajamas with Chase at his side, tail wagging slowly. My son seemed to be in a state of shock.

“This is Casey,” I said.

Cody’s eyes narrowed. “Does she talk?”

“Casey, this is our son, Cody.”

The girl went on eating her breakfast. “Uh-huh.”

“He’s not bad for a boy,” I told her and was rewarded with the glimmer of a smile.

“Mom,” Cody protested. “She’s not staying, is she?”

Whatever slight enjoyment had shown in Casey’s eyes immediately disappeared. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gone soon.”

I swallowed the words to tell Casey she was welcome to stay as long as she needed. To be honest, I didn’t know if that was true. We’d merely agreed to a short-term visit; I suspected that was all we could handle. This girl made me feel uncomfortable in my own home.

“I’ll be late tonight—” I said, reaching for the coffeepot. Brad worked for UPS and had left an hour before my alarm went off. He’d made coffee, as usual—for which I was profoundly grateful.